“Well, Doctor,” she asked, with eagerness, “what message do you bring me?”
“A pleasant one, my dear miss. The count has instituted inquiries about you, has had you carefully watched of late, and has now decided to invite you to come to Sielenburg. He will provide for your future. He himself would have come to Vienna to fetch you, but illness confines him to his room—the old gentleman is now more than seventy—Egypt seems not to have done him any good. Now I am commissioned, in the first place, to make this disclosure to you, and, in the second place, to hand you these lines.”
He took a second sheet out of the envelope and handed it to Franka, who read as follows:—
Sielenburg, May 20, 1909.
Dear Granddaughter:—
I invite you to make your home with me. The bearer, my attorney, will provide whatever is necessary and will accompany you hither. God bless you.
Count Eduard Sielen.
“In the third place,” proceeded Dr. Fixstern, “I am to hand you a small sum of money,” and suiting the action to the word he laid on the table a bundle of bank-notes—there were ten one-hundred-kronen bills,—“and, in the fourth place, to consult with you regarding the prospective journey to Moravia. You probably require some little preparation and in this my wife may be able to help you.... Now, my dear miss, have you a little more time to spare for me?”
Franka offered him her hand. She could not immediately find words—it was like a dream, like a fairy-tale. A home! So suddenly to be rescued from all her tribulation and all her desolation—a home!